


Kissing in the Rain

by thehornsofmischief



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2662130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehornsofmischief/pseuds/thehornsofmischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe where Grif and Simmons are actors forced to work together in countless romances. </p><p>(Based off the webseries 'Kissing in the Rain', by whoever the creators are of the YouTube channel 'Shipwrecked.'. P.S you should totally go check it out, it's pretty amazing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Pf36pfwA9k&list=PLs2T_dNZ-XW7q7eqkRL1VXBiyaC_5VXRW)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chris and James

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris = Grif  
> James = Simmons

"Wait! James, wait!"

"What do you want?" The ginger-haired man turned around, the umbrella clutched tightly in his hands.

"Isn't it obvious?" The other man said, catching his breath after having run after him.

"I'm not talking to you until I get an apology, Chris."

"Fine." Chris huffed out a breath, wiping away the rain trickling down his face. "I'm sorry."

"For everything?" James asked, still unsure.

"No."

"Then why -"

"I'm not going to apologise for falling in love with you." Chris interrupted him, shouting to be heard above the heavy rain.

James stopped, completely dumbfounded.

"You...love me?"

"More than words can express."

They looked into each other's eyes, letting the words sink in.

Suddenly, James pulled him close, pressing his lips to his. The umbrella fell to the ground as both his arms locked around Chris' neck. The other man kissed back, smiling when they pulled away. James grinned.

"I love you too."

 

"Cut, 5 minutes then we go again."

The two men jumped apart at the shout of the director. The rain shut off, and an assistant handed them towels as the set stood by for the next take.

Simmons eagerly wrapped a towel around his shoulders, avoiding eye contact with the actor next to him.

"Great working with you again, Simmons." Grif said, smiling easily. Like they hadn't been lip locked a minute ago.

"Yeah...okay, whatever." Simmons replied, taking a bottle of water someone handed him.

"Fucking harsh."

"Can you try to keep your mouth shut? I'm falling out of character." Simmons snapped at him, watching with irritation as the other man shrugged.

"So concerned with my mouth all of a sudden. What happened, did I blow your mind?"

"No! You're just an idiot!"

"Wow, sweet comeback. You've completely thrown me off." Grif held back a laugh as the other man clenched his fists and shouted,

"I need five minutes without this asshole next to me, please!"

As the studio looked up at them, Grif smiled as if he were indulging a child and threw his arm around Simmons' shoulders.

"Stop being such a baby."

"Get off me!"


	2. Anthony and Josh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anthony = Grif  
> Josh = Simmons

"Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Anthony."

"No problem. Anything for my Josh." Anthony pulled the ginger-haired man into a headlock, rubbing his knuckles against his scalp.

"Cut that out, moron!" He laughed, pulling away. They both looked up at the sky as they heard thunder.

"Shit, it's started to rain." Anthony looked out into the parking lot, where the rain was coming down in sheets.

"That's not rain, that's the apocalypse." 

Anthony ran out into the rain, immediately clutching his chest.

"I have been struck down by the Gods. Save me, noble Josh of 57 Primrose Avenue!"

Josh laughed and ran out to join him, shoving him into a puddle.

"There. You're saved."

"You ginger asshole!" Anthony shouted.

Somehow they got into a chase, their laughing faces lit up by the stormy sky. The setting sun gave the thunder storm a red glow, and Josh would have been right to call it an apocalypse. It looked like the most beautiful explosion.

Anthony managed to grasp Josh's sleeve and pulled him close, immediately pressing a kiss to his lips. It was messy and it wasn't perfect, but Josh pulled away laughing, taking up a dancing hold.

"May I have this dance?"

"Fuck yeah."

 

"Nice work guys, one more and we'll break for lunch."

Grif immediately bent over, wheezing and coughing.

"Holy shit dude, are you okay?" Simmons asked, watching with confusion as the other man nearly threw his lungs up.

"I don't think I've ever ran that much in my life." Grif panted.

"Yeah, it shows."

"That was unnecessary, asshole."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me, never call me a 'ginger asshole' ever again." Simmons said, wrapping a quilt around his shoulders.

"It was on the script." Grif said, his face the picture of innocence. Simmons groaned.

"I read that fucking script back to front eight times, there's not one ginger joke in there!"

"Wow, eight times? Someone has some issues."

"I do _not_ have issues! It's not my fault I do my fucking job!" Simmons shouted, making Grif throw his hands up in a gesture of defeat.

"Whatever you say, Simmons."

They stood in silence for a moment before Grif looked up, tapping the other man on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

"Fuck no."


	3. Nick and Michael

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick = Grif  
> Michael = Simmons

Michael sighed and pulled his tuxedo closer around him, ignoring how cold he was getting. Sure, he was standing outside in the rain instead of being in the warm hall, but he'd take the storm over watching his crush dance with someone else any day.

Suddenly, he heard the side door open behind him. He turned around to see his crush, Nick, come strolling out.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear." Michael mumbled, making Nick tilt his head in confusion.

"You weren't talking to yourself again, were you?"

"Shut up." Michael laughed, smiling fondly at the other man.

"So why are you out here all by your lonesome?"

"I just...needed some air."

"Ah. I see." Nick stepped closer. Their shoulders were touching now, and Michael found it hard not to smile at the contact.

"Where's your partner?" Michael asked, looking into the other man's eyes. They were a gorgeous deep brown, so deep you could fall into them if you weren't too careful.

"I'm looking right at him."

Nick reached out and cradled Michael's face, his large hands tilting his face towards him as they pressed their lips together. It was soft and sweet and everything Michael didn't think he could get.

 

"Cut. Hold for lens change."

The two men broke apart, Simmons fixing his gaze to the floor. What was that shit about his deep brown eyes?

"Here." Grif handed him a towel and he took it without looking at him.

He was just getting into character. Yeah, getting into character.

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing." Simmons snapped. Grif raised his eyebrows and leaned back against a tree.

"You're a little pissier than usual."

"Why the fuck do you care?"

"I don't." Grif huffed, crossing his arms as he turned away.

It was then that Simmons noticed Grif didn't have a towel.


	4. Ben and Tim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben = Grif  
> Tim = Simmons

"Tim, please answer the damn phone."

Ben looked up at the rain clouds and bit his lip, listening to the dial tone for the third time. The line cut off, and Ben growled and nearly threw his phone into the bushes.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck!"

"Ben?" He heard a weak voice croak out behind him. He turned around, his breath caught in his throat.

"You didn't..."

Tim shook his head, slowly walking closer. Ben could see tears forming in the thinner man's eyes, and his throat got tighter.

"No, I...I didn't take the flight."

"Oh, thank god." Ben stirred into action, pulling the other man into a messy kiss. He tried to put all of his longing into it, all of his gratitude.

They broke apart, and he rested his forehead against Tim's. The other man sniffed, smiling as they looked into each other's eyes.

 

"Cut. That was beautiful, great job guys."

The two men stepped apart, Grif immediately turning around and sneezing.

"Jesus Christ, you better not have given that to me." Simmons said, his voice filled with disgust. Grif turned around and flipped him a middle finger.

"It's probably from standing in so much fucking rain with your sorry ass."

"Well, by all means, don't trouble yourself with this then." Simmons snapped, watching as Grif rolled his eyes and began to walk off set.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"To quit."

Simmons' heart skipped a beat and he wasn't sure why. Then Grif turned around.

"I'm joking, Christ, I'm going to get Oreos. You'd think someone shit all over your parade." Grif said, a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. Simmons' hands curled into fists. "You know, for someone who acts like he hates my guts, you sure looked scared there for a minute."

"I was scared for my job, idiot."

"Right, _sure_."


	5. Kyle and Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyle = Grif  
> Peter = Simmons

"This is all your fault, Kyle."

" _My_ fault? How the hell is it _my_ fault?!" Kyle shouted, the rain glistening on his tanned skin.

"Oh man, where do I even begin? First of all, it's your fault we missed the train!" Peter raised his voice in order to be heard above the heavy rain.

"Did you forget the 15 minutes you spent looking for your damn scarf?!"

"Hey! My grandmother knitted me that and you know how much it means to me!"

They stepped closer, their chests rising and falling as they screamed at each other. The entire platform was deserted, it was just the two of them and their bags resting against the brick wall.

"Oh boohoo, I lost my nana's scarf, I'm gonna blame my best friend and then cry about it like the little princess I am!"

"You're such an asshole!"

"Yeah, then what are you, because I'm pretty sure you take the -"

Peter yanked the other man forward and cut him off by pressing his lips to his, kissing him roughly until he shut up. They pulled away, Kyle raising an eyebrow.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"You're so infuriating."

"Wow, thanks a -"

Kyle never got to finish his sentence.

 

"Cut!"

Simmons stepped away, wiping the rain off his face and shivering. Grif smiled and shook his head, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"What are you smiling at?" Simmons asked, regarding him wearily.

"Nothing, you just seemed really into that."

"Ofcourse I did, I'm a good actor, dumbass." Simmons said, watching with satisfaction as Grif looked away in annoyance. He ignored the blush creeping onto his face as he thought about Grif's lips on his.

They stood in silence for a moment before Grif turned back around.

"You know what your problem is?"

"I'm dying to hear it."

"You're so eager to be liked by everyone. All the fucking time. It's all I hear at the press conferences, how much people love your stupid ass."

"You don't know shit about me, Grif." Simmons said, trying to hide the stab he felt in his chest. There was no way Grif could be that observant.

"Oh yes I fucking do." The other man stepped closer, his face looking uncharacteristically serious. "You need to sort your shit out, Simmons."

Simmons held his breath as Grif came even closer, so close that by this time they were usually kissing. His gaze flickered down to the other man's lips.

Suddenly the corner of his lips curled into a smirk, and his eyes held a secret glee. Simmons frowned.

"I knew you were into it."

"What?! I -"

"I'm a good actor too, Simmons. Why do you think I was hired?" Grif laughed as he began to walk back to his spot.

"Wait, I wasn't -"

"Too late, Simmons. Too late."


	6. Frank and Charlie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank = Grif  
> Charlie = Simmons

"Hey, Frank?"

"Yeah, Charlie?"

"Why did you do this?" The ginger-haired man motioned to the picnic set out before them. He watched as Frank shrugged and sat down.

"It's your birthday. I wanted to do something special."

"But...why?" Charlie sat down next to him and ignored the way his heart skipped a beat when Frank's hand brushed against his.

"Because..."

They listened to the rain as Frank tried to find the words. The stars shone brighter than Charlie had ever seen them, but all of his focus was fixed on the way Frank swallowed and took his hand in his.

"Because I love you, C."

Charlie smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was short and sweet, and when they broke apart the moon had broken through the clouds.

"I love you too, Frank."

Frank pulled him closer and began to kiss him deeply, his tongue sending shivers down Charlie's spine. His hands moved up into his hair and clung on tightly.

 

"Cut! Two more then that's a wrap, everybody."

It took the two a moment to register that the rain had stopped, that the overhead lights had come on, and that there was an assistant awkwardly standing next to them clutching two blankets. They continued kissing, Simmons' eyes scrunching shut and Grif's hands deftly moving to sit on the other man's hips.

The assistant cleared her throat and they broke apart, Simmons blushing furiously.

"Thanks." Grif smiled as he took the blankets and draped one around the other man's shoulders.

He could hardly hold back a laugh as Simmons tugged his shirt down from where it had been riding up and nervously rearranged his hair.

"I'd hate to say 'I told you so', but..."

Simmons jumped up from where he was sitting and dashed off set, quickly muttering something about a touch up. But it didn't quite work out and he slipped on the wet grass, landing face first into a bush.

Grif laughed and got up to help him, careful not to slip himself.

"Stop laughing, asshole!" Simmons shouted when he was standing again. He was still blushing, and Grif's smile was almost fond as he picked a leaf out of his hair.

"Shut up and go get your touch up, Simmons."

"I hate you."


	7. Dexter and Dick

Simmons cleared his throat and knocked on the door, his heart beating furiously.

"Who is it?"

"Just open the fucking door." Simmons said, ignoring the way his voice broke.

"It's open, come in."

Simmons pressed the handle down and walked in, shutting it softly behind him. His face filled with horror.

"What the fuck, Grif?!"

"What?" Grif asked innocently, his attention fixed on his TV.

"It smells like something died in here!"

"Oh yeah, that must be your resolve." Grif smirked, standing up.

"You really need to clean up in here, I swear I just saw something crawl along the floor." Simmons said, ignoring what the other man said.

"Why did you come to my dressing room, Simmons?"

Simmons swallowed, stepping backwards as Grif walked closer.

"Because I doubt it was to talk about how spotless my floor is."

"Spotless? Are you -"

"Stop dodging the fucking question."

Simmons felt his back hit a wall and his mind tried to formulate an escape plan but all he could look at was the delicious smirk on Grif's lips and the way his eyebrow quirked up like he knew.

"I'm not dodging the question, you're dodging the question."

"Wow, real smooth. Remind me why they hired you again?" Grif asked, stopping two inches from Simmons.

"Hey, I'm brilliant, dickhead." Simmons snapped, making Grif roll his eyes. His annoyance soon vanished when Grif placed a hand on his hip, his fingers dipping just below the waistband of his jeans.

"What do you want, Simmons?"

Simmons blushed furiously at the contact, his mouth opening and closing. Grif cupped his other hand around his neck, his finger tracing a line below his jaw. To Grif's surprise, sudden irritation flashed in Simmons' eyes and he let out a sharp sigh.

"Oh for fuck's sake, let's get on with it."

He pulled him forward, their lips crashing together. It was messy but goddamn it if it didn't make Simmons' knees weak. Grif pulled away, surprise written all over his face.

"I wasn't expecting _that_ reaction."

"What do you think, dumbass? We've only got 15 minutes until the next scene."

"There's a lot you can do in 15 minutes."

"Not if you keep running your mouth like that, you idiot."

"Fine, I'll put it to better use."

And boy did he.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
